


Hello and Goodbye

by shelley (jedi_penguin)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-15
Updated: 2010-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedi_penguin/pseuds/shelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan comes to settle accounts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello and Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atrata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atrata/gifts).



> Written for the [Giles ficathon](http://www.livejournal.com/community/giles_ficathon/393.html). Atrata wanted Ethan, snark and cigarettes.

The stink of cheap cigarettes hit Giles the second he opened the door. Unless the Council wetworks team had returned to Sunnydale, there were only two smokers in his life and one of those had had his invitation revoked. That left only, “Ethan.”

“’Allo, Ripper. ‘Bout time you got back. I’ve nearly finished your last beer.”

“So sorry,” Giles said smoothly. “I would have stocked up if I’d just had a bit of warning that you were planning to break into my flat.”

“Feed me dinner and I’ll forgive you,” Ethan said magnanimously.

Giles flipped on the light switch and closed the door behind him. Ethan was sitting on his sofa, drinking the last of his Tadcaster porters. Squinting against the sudden brightness after sitting in the dark for an unknown length of time, he dragged deeply on his cigarette and tipped the ashes onto the couch.

“Oi!” Giles yelped. “I just had that steam cleaned!”

“Did you, old man? Terribly sorry.” Ethan gave Giles a greasy smile, but his eyes glittered deadly cold. “Is that anything like having one’s clothes dry cleaned? I rather like dry cleaners. My last visit, I had my favorite shirt cleaned. The very shirt you borrowed the night I was arrested, in fact.”

“I’d give it back to you,” Giles offered, “if I still had it.”

“Let me guess. You felt so badly about my incarceration that you traded it to the local hermit in return for his hairshirt.”

“No, I gave it to Willy. He was too cheap to buy a disco ball but still wanted a bit of sparkle for his bar. We agreed that hanging your shirt from the ceiling would have the same effect.”

“Very amusing. I’ll have you know I paid nearly seventy quid for that shirt.” Ethan sighed melodramatically. “Now that you’ve bankrupted me, the least you could do is make me a fry-up.”

Oddly enough, Giles nodded and went into the kitchen. Without a word, he pulled out two sausages from the freezer and a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. While the sausages defrosted in the microwave, he rummaged about for a frying pan.

Ethan moved into the kitchen and lounged against a wall, arms folded in front of him and a look of quiet satisfaction in his eyes. “Just like old times, eh Rupert? Though you never used to serve up such paltry portions before…”

“I won’t be joining you,” Giles informed him. “Buffy invited me over for dinner tonight and I’m rather full. Joyce, her mother, is an excellent cook.”

“So, the Slayer has time for her old Watcher now, does she? My, my. Things **have** changed since I last passed by the Hellmouth.”

Giles shrugged, reluctant to discuss the enjoining spell and its aftermath, both negative and positive. Instead, he went on the offensive. “A Chaos mage surprised by change? Whatever would Janus say about that?”

“I wouldn’t know. We’re not on speaking terms these days.” Giles quirked an eyebrow, silently asking for clarification, and Ethan smiled nastily. “Prison life is a bit too regimented for him.”

“And you?”

“I got up at the same time every day. The **exact** same time, to the minute, every day. I showered at the same time, I ate at the same time, I exercised and read at the same time—hell, I wanked and pissed at the same time… Every. Fucking. Day. For five months. How do you think I coped?”

Giles evaded Ethan’s gaze and simply said, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Quite a spread, Ripper. I’m impressed.” He pushed off the wall with a languid grace that sent Giles reaching for his glasses and a handkerchief. Ethan smirked knowingly and added, “A welcome home feast like this almost makes it worthwhile going to prison in the first place. Almost…”

“I’m just trying to bring a bit of peace and quiet to my life.” This time it was Ethan’s turn to silently ask for an explanation and Giles’ turn to smirk. “All this fried food, added to those cigarettes you insist on smoking, are certain to shorten your lifespan considerably. A few more fry-ups and I’ll be rid of you permanently.”

“Didn’t you already do that by sending me to prison?” Ethan demanded fiercely. “Even now, I still can’t believe you did that. How could you do that to me? To **me**?”

“You pissed me off,” Giles said simply.

“It was a joke,” Ethan hissed angrily. “You used to be able to take a joke, and then suddenly…”

“I used to not have a Slayer,” Giles said. “She’s my responsibility, my destiny, my, my… vocation, if you will. You pitted her against me, putting me in a position where I either had to kill my own Slayer or permit her to kill me, knowing the burden of guilt that would put upon her. That’s not a joke, Ethan. That’s a death wish on your part.” He pulled his lips back in a terrifying parody of a smile. “Be glad that I found some other means of dealing with your… transgression.”

“Is that a threat, Ripper?”

“Not at all,” Giles assured him. “Consider it a warning. And a promise for what **will** happen the next time you attempt to get between me and my Slayer.”

“Well, well. You really have shed the tweed, haven’t you Rupert?” Ethan pushed back on his chair and studied Giles carefully. “This isn’t a surprise to you, is it, Ripper? Me being here, I mean.”

“Why should it be? I engineered your release, after all.”

“Oh, Rupert! I’m touched. You love me! You really, really love me!”

“Fuck you.”

“Now, there’s an idea,” Ethan mused thoughtfully. “How many years has it been since—“

“I’m not having this discussion with you,” Giles growled. “Eat up and get out.”

“Perhaps I overestimated that love just a tad…”

Although he hadn’t eaten more than a third of his meal, Giles snatched Ethan’s plate away and marched it into the kitchen. “You’re trying my patience, Ethan.”

“Then we’re even, mate. You exhausted mine within three hours of having me arrested.”

“I’m not apologizing for that,” Giles told him.

“Oh, of course not. The heavens might fall down in shock were you to ever apologize to me for anything you did to me.” Ethan gave him a shrewd look. “But you atone, don’t you, Ripper? You don’t apologize, but you do atone.”

Giles scraped the remainder of Ethan’s dinner into the garbage and threw the plate into the sink with an unnecessary violence. “What are you on about now?”

Ethan moved into the kitchen and straight into Giles’ personal space. “What did you mean by ‘engineering my release?”

“Willow broke into the Initiative’s computers. I had her send orders concerning you while she was in there.” Giles shrugged self-consciously. “That’s really all there is to it.”

Ethan slithered forward, moving impossibly close. “And why did you bother, Rupert?”

“I wanted you out of the country.” Shocked, Ethan backed away and Giles grinned wickedly. “America is too small for the two of us, old boy. Not just this country, but the entire continent. I want you on the other side of the world, Ethan.”

“And if I don’t go?”

“That would be a mistake,” Giles assured him. “A rather large one, in fact.”

“So, this is it, then? In exchange for my freedom you’re ordering me out of your life forever?” For the smallest of seconds, Ethan dropped his guard and true regret shone out of his chocolate eyes. “Not how I ever imagined we’d end up, mate.”

“You’ve misunderstood me. You’ll always be part of who I am, Ethan, and simple geography is hardly likely to change that.” Giles pulled out two glasses and nodded towards his liquor cabinet. Ethan pulled out a bottle of scotch and handed it over. “But you’ve put Buffy in danger one too many times and that is unacceptable. You will stay away from her in the future, and from me whenever I happen to be in her vicinity.”

“So when the Slayer dies, you’ll—“

“Buffy isn’t dying any time soon,” Giles said hotly. “She’s going to be a grandmother and die in her sleep.”

“Of course, old man.” Ethan held out a placating hand, and restrained himself from pointing out that Giles himself knew he was lying. “Of course. How about this then: if you happen to be in London and she’s not? Am I worthy of entering your presence then?”

Giles shrugged, the barest hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth as he passed Ethan a drink. “Worthy? No. Expected? Perhaps.”

“Expected?” Ethan demanded with mock outrage. “When have I ever done anything that you expect?”

“You’re right, of course. A thousand pardons. I have no doubt you’ll show up at the least convenient moment possible and proceed to play merry hell with my life.“

“That’s better,” Ethan said, clearly mollified. “So. What sort of sheets do you have on your bed, Ripper? You may remember that I’m partial to silk, but cot—“

“Sheets? Bed? What are you on about now, you idiot?”

“Well, if I’m to buy a plane ticket back to England sometime next month—“

“Tomorrow.”

“Buy a plane ticket tomorrow,” Ethan continued smoothly, “I’ll need to save my pennies, won’t I? Surely you can save me the price of a hotel for a few nights…”

“For one night,” Giles said firmly. “And I suppose you could stay here. For one night **only**. On the sofa.”

“The sofa!” Ethan exclaimed. “That’s not very hospitable of you, Ripper.”

“No, it isn’t. But if you think I’m giving up my bed for you—“

“Oh, I’d never dream of asking **that**! However, if you could just see your way clear to sharing it…”

“Our days of sharing a bed are over,” Giles said regretfully. “A broken spine on my settee is the best I can offer you, I’m afraid.”

“You used to like having me in your bed,” Ethan pointed out.

“I used to like treacle tarts as well. Sadly, one’s tastes change over time.”

“I taste much better that treacle tarts.”

“I remember.” A wistful look passed through Giles’ eyes and quickly vanished. “Good night, Ethan.”

“Well, if I won’t be eating you for dessert, can you tell me what you’ll feed me for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Good **night** , Ethan.”

“And how about a shirt for me? Since you pinched my best shirt, it seems only fair for—“

Giles leaned over and grabbed Ethan for a kiss. It was short but rather sweet and achieved the desired result of shutting Ethan up. After a moment, Giles pushed away from him. “I’ll take care of everything you need in the morning. After that, I’ll drive you to Los Angeles and put you on the earliest plane headed away from the New World. For now, I’m saying goodnight.”

Giles headed up the stairs and Ethan watched him the entire way. As soon as his old friend was out of sight, he lit another cigarette and whispered, “Good night, Rupert. I’ll be seeing you.”

THE END


End file.
